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‘Now hold on, Halfred,’ cried Cook, coming to her senses. ‘These fool lads were trying to catch whoever or whatever it was that broke into the smokehouse.’ She gave Gil and his companions a shake of her head. ‘And here I almost brained them! My golly, they scared me half to death!’
Minto and Mungo released the four suspects once Halfred had assessed the situation all round and come to the conclusion that none of them were the thief. Cook ordered the lads back to the Inn. ‘Let Halfred manage here,’ she said, giving Tomlin the poker to take back to the kitchen. ‘And we’ve a party to think of this evening. Best you lads lend your strong backs to getting it set up.’
Halfred, in the meantime had been inspecting the smokehouse while his deputies looked at the surrounding area. ‘Took some raw meat, whoever it was,’ said the Shiriff, noting the dried blood trailing out of the door and into the more forested area. ‘And two-legged, too,’ chimed in Minto, pointing to the scuffed tracks about the smokehouse.
Mungo, his father a locksmith from Hobbiton, stood looking at the broken latch. ‘Let me just ride to my father’s workshop. I’ll get that fixed up right as rain in no time.’ Halfred nodded and off Mungo went.
‘I’ll leave it in your good hands, Halfred, to find the culprit,’ Cook said as she started back toward the Inn. ‘Oh,’ she went on, turning back toward the Shiriff and his deputy. ‘Bring your wives to the Inn this evening. There’s a fellow in with some casks of ale he wants us to try out. There’ll be plenty of food and the drink to wash it down with. And dancing.’ Then she was on her way again and soon back in the kitchen.
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